


Elegiacs

by faithinthepoor



Series: Desperate Housewives [17]
Category: Desperate Housewives
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithinthepoor/pseuds/faithinthepoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during They Ask Me Why I Believe in You</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elegiacs

**Author's Note:**

> Follows [Unseemly](http://archiveofourown.org/works/668467), [The Theory of Everything](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faithinthepoor), [Here There Be Dragons](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673221), [Somnambulist](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673229), [Wishin’ and Hopin’](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673233), [Nosology](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673238), [Boundary Violations](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673240), [Fractals](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673250), [Windmill Tilting](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673255), [Ambitendency](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673262), [Heisenberg Territory](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673272), [The Illusions of Prisms](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673700), [Keratitis Sicca](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682311), [Schrödinger’s Realm](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682327), [Chiaroscuro](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682358) and [Altered Trajectories](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682370)

She has made many lists in her life, they started as short notes written in multiple colours and produced due to excitement over new paper or pens rather than for any content they possessed, as she grew older they started to have an actual purpose but they were simple, practical instructions the kind of lists that almost everybody makes. Somewhere along the line things changed, the lists grew in length and number, she began to create master lists to control all the subsidiary ones, they no longer simplified her life, they cluttered and controlled it. Things reached the point where she made lists for all occasions and in preparation for random events that might happen in her life, and to be honest she believed that she had most of her bases covered but it had never occurred to her to make a ‘Things one should do when they are under suspicion of murder and they take their husband’s dead body from the morgue’ list. Clearly she has been remiss and she curses her lack of foresight because it would be really helpful to have some preordained guidelines right now. 

She is not flying completely blind, she has had enough time since she left the morgue to come up with some basic ground rules, nothing fancy and nothing that required the skills of an expert list maker, mainly common sense directives that should not have been hard to follow and yet what she is currently doing flies in the face of the list. She may not have spelt it out directly but she is fairly certain that under the heading of ‘Make every effort to avoid arousing further suspicion’ she could safely include ‘Do not kiss someone who isn’t your husband whilst standing within two feet of your front door’ but somehow this is exactly what she is doing.

This incident probably could have been avoided, she certainly had every intention of never letting it happen again and she is going to give serious consideration to installing major security measures at her house once she can get her brain functioning but at the moment it is oxygen deprived from the kissing and from the arms that are coiled around her torso like a boa constrictor. She would be berating herself but she doesn’t believe that she can be held accountable for her actions, she is not having the best of lives at the moment - she has sent her son away for a second time proving once and for all that she is a terrible mother, she has become the prime murder suspect in a death that she knows was not a murder and Rex died believing that she had betrayed him – she thinks she’s entitled to be at least a little off her game. She is vulnerable and needy and has been self-medicating with alcohol so she was in no position to protest when Lynette showed up on her doorstep looking like sex and proceeded to push her up the wall and kiss her senseless. 

Lynette pulls away first, the ultimate embarrassment given that she is the one who has been insisting to Lynette that they cannot have a relationship, and stares at her with predatory eyes. She can feel the alcohol from Lynette’s breath burning her face and knows that she is the more sober of the two of them and that she will never forgive herself if she doesn’t put a stop to this and that there is no point being delicate, “You’re drunk and you need to go home.”

“You’ve been drinking too and I’m staying,” Lynette’s response is surprising slur free but she’s not sure if this is a indication that Lynette is less intoxicated than she suspected or if she has had too much alcohol herself to be a reasonable judge.

“I don’t want to have another discussion about why we can’t do this.”

“Me neither, I just want to get back to the kissing.”

“That won’t be happening.”

Lynette growls and slithers her leg between Bree’s thighs, “This is killing me.”

“Sex isn’t everything Lynette,” she lies and knows that Lynette must be able to feel the furnace between her legs that pointedly contradicts her words.

“Maybe not,” she drags her leg back and seems satisfied that Bree squirms, “but you won’t let me have anything else either.”

“I do want to be there for you just not like this.”

“You can’t be.”

“I would do my best to be everything you need me to be.”

“When I have a bad day, I need you to kiss me and make it all better and when I have great day, I need to celebrate it with you publicly and when I have a truly awesome day and I am feeling like I could rule the world, I need to come home and kiss you until you can’t think, until you know that you’re mine and until you admit that you were wrong and that this is something special and we shouldn’t give this up. Tell me, are you going to be able to give me that?”

She doesn’t tell Lynette that she is in danger of fulling the last requirement right now, “It will never be that easy and it would never be enough and it will end badly.”

“Things are bad now.”

“They could be worse.”

Lynette’s aside is muttered but still audible, “I don’t see how.” 

Bree doesn’t respond to that because she isn’t all that convinced that she would be able to answer with conviction, so she decides to proceed with actions rather than words and gently places her hands on Lynette’s hips and begins to push her away. Lynette’s eyes go wide and she looks like a skittish deer facing it’s hunter, her hand lashes out to remove Bree’s from where it is hovering and then covers her pocket, protecting it as though her life depends upon it. Bree gives her a questioning look before prying Lynette’s fingers from their position, a task that would have definitely been easier if she’d had a crow bar handy, and attempts to slide her fingers into the pocket. Lynette backs away, apparently deciding that the contents are something she must reveal herself. 

She doesn’t know what she expected to see but it wasn’t a somewhat tattered envelope with her handwriting on it. She holds out her hand and Lynette allows her to inspect the item, “You didn’t open it.”

Lynette can’t meet her gaze and the muscles around her mouth quiver, “I couldn’t.”

It shouldn’t make a difference but with that one small confession she feels everything change and can no longer think of a single item on her sensible and sizable list of reasons that they can not be together that is bigger or more important than this thing between the two of them. “Come here,” her voice is soft, it’s the same one that she always used to comfort her children when they were small, and Lynette responds in the way they used to, whimpering and allowing herself to be folded in Bree’s arms. “I never meant to hurt you.”

She expects Lynette to argue or least take her to task over her recent behaviour but she doesn’t, instead she walks her fingers over Bree’s profile until they find her lips and mumbles, “Hush,” against her neck as she places her palm over Bree’s mouth.

She takes Lynette’s advice and remains silent, busying her mouth with other activities as she repeatedly kisses the skin that is covering it. Lynette reciprocates by exploring the flesh of Bree’s neck with her lips and tongue before making her way to Bree’s face and exchanging her mouth for her hand. The kissing is intoxicating but it’s not enough, thankfully Lynette seems to understand this and pushes her leg back between Bree’s thighs in a move that is more gentle but somehow more confident than the last time she preformed it. Bree doesn’t say anything but as she pulls Lynette closer and allows herself to grind against Lynette’s thigh, the benedictions that she is offering in her head are almost deafening. 

There have been many moments that she has dedicated to wondering what it would be like between her and Lynette and she has been more than a little worried that it may be disappointing and that it would ruin everything between them. Despite what people think about her and her tendency to repress herself at every given turn, she does enjoy sex but she’s not an expert and never gave serious consideration to sleeping with anyone other than Rex. She has had her share of fantasies and most of these, well pretty much all of these, involved Lynette but even though they’ve flirted around the issue she didn’t believe that she could ever carry though with the act. She knows that she doesn’t have anything to compare it with but being with Rex was truly incredible, she enjoyed everything about the physical side of their relationship. Even when she was angry with him, even when she compromised her principals and succumbed to his perversions, the sex was still amazing. She didn’t lie to Dr Goldfine when she told him that she loved everything about sex but the problem is that everything she described related to having sex with a man and no matter how she feels about Lynette she remains concerned that making love to a woman may not be something that she will like as much as she liked being with Rex, other than the fact that it means that the scrotum issue becomes redundant.

She has engaged in numerous internal debates on how she would deal with the situation and her consensus has always been that if she was to do this with Lynette, she never imagined it being with anyone else, that she would do her best not to think about the differences, to close her eyes and focus on the sensations and let them carry her through. She believed that she could let her body take over, that she could think only about the act and not about whom she was doing it with but she was wrong. As Lynette captures her clothing covered nipple in her mouth she doesn’t think about the warmth or the moisture or the exquisite pain that she experiences as it hardens, she only thinks about Lynette. Her body is able to continue on, rocking against Lynette’s leg with an intensity that she fears may cause friction burns but she pulls Lynette’s head up so that she can look at her. She strokes Lynette’s cheek and then proceeds to move her fingers over her face as though she needs tactile confirmation that Lynette is really there. She feels awkward and inexperienced as she struggles with the buttons of Lynette’s vest but at the same time she feels as though she is where she was always meant to be. She parts the fabric and reveals what was hidden of Lynette’s torso and a midriff far too taut to be that of a woman who has had one child, let alone four. She pauses her movements, other than the thrusting of her hips which she doesn’t think she will ever be able to stop, and watches the interplay of the muscles under Lynette’s skin and continues to watch them until they disappear from view. While she was being mesmerised by Lynette’s phenomenal body, Lynette has been working industriously and is currently lifting up her leg so that her pants can be removed, she contracts her own muscles to be of assistance but when she attempts to relax her leg and place it back on the floor, Lynette lifts it higher and hooks it over her shoulder. As Lynette’s tongue touches her core she lets out a yelp that causes Lynette to withdraw and look up at her with worried eyes, seemingly concerned that she may have offended her and awaiting approval before she will resume. Bree reaches down and lovingly runs her hands through Lynette’s hair before nodding that she wants her to proceed. 

Her yelp has given her cause for concern though and she places her own hand over her mouth as a precaution against further cries. It’s late and Danielle is asleep but she doesn’t want to risk a confrontation, she will lose a lot of parental ground if her daughter finds her half naked, up against a wall, while their neighbour performs acts on her that she clearly enjoys but has spent a lifetime telling Danielle are sinful. It is a scenario that she doesn’t relish but as Lynette’s warm tongue glides across her clitoris she knows that if it is a choice between her daughter knowing that she is a hypocritical sinner and Lynette stopping, there is no doubt in her mind that she would want Lynette to continue. Stifling her cries is more difficult than she anticipated and as Lynette quickens her pace she feels like she can’t get enough air into her lungs and is forced to let arm fall to her side. Lynette continues her relentless actions and Bree’s head bangs back against the wall, she is sure that her body has become a useless string and that she would have fallen by now if she wasn’t sandwiched between Lynette and the wall. Lynette seems aware of the change in the tone of Bree’s form and holds her more tightly but just as she feels she is going to explode, Lynette stops and returns her leg to the floor, steadying her before she stands up herself.

Bree is dazed and can’t seem to articulate her frustration at Lynette for stopping but Lynette seems to understand her unspoken concerns, “It’s okay,” she whispers, “I just wanted to be able to look at you.” Her fingers take over the work that her mouth had nearly completed and it only takes a few strokes before Bree does explode, fireworks releasing inside her head as her brain short-circuits, and collapses against Lynette. Her breathing is still rapid and her heart probably can’t go much faster without killing her but her legs seems to be in contact with the ground and capable of supporting her body as she bravely attempts to use them, spinning their bodies so that Lynette is now the one pressed against the wall. Her fingers fumble as she attempts to undo Lynette’s pants and Lynette grabs at her hand to stop her, “It will have to wait until next time, Tom will be wondering where I am.”

“But you didn’t…” she can’t finish her sentence, she knows that it’s pointless after what she has just allowed Lynette to do to her but she can feel the blush rising to her face at the thought of having to voice anything of a sexual nature.

Lynette giggles, “It’s fine, it really is okay, I have had a very,” it shouldn’t be possible to make that word anywhere near as suggestive as Lynette just has, “good time and this will just give me something to look forward to.” She kisses Bree quickly before slipping out of her embrace and gathering her stuff. Bree catches Lynette’s arm and pulls her back into another, deeper kiss. Lynette groans as they part, “Stop it, you keep kissing me like that and I will never go home.” Bree attempts to capture her lips again but is rewarded with a gentle shove to the chest for her effort, “Don’t you dare,” Lynette scolds before turning to leave. She makes it all the way to the door before dropping her belongings and rushing back into Bree’s arms and kissing her aggressively. When the kiss ends Lynette places her forehead against Bree’s and seems unable to move.

“You sure you want to go?” she teases gently

“Yes,” her reply is more than a little ambiguous given that she is once again kissing Bree but this kiss is much briefer, “I’m going.” She manages to make it to the door without running back but she does hesitate at the threshold, she turns her head and looks Bree firmly in the eye as she emphatically decrees, “I love you,” and then finally manages to leave.

She would like to be able to say that Lynette is all she thinks about until she next sees her but it’s probably better that she wasn’t entirely focused on Lynette while she planned her husband’s reburial. She had hoped that her behaviour at this ceremony would be more dignified than at the first, she had actually thought that it would be almost impossible to outdo her breakdown at the church but her outburst that day now seems trivial when compared with her nuclear meltdown this morning. As they walk away from his grave, Lynette strokes her arm and it doesn’t seem as blatantly sexual as her touches normally are. For some reason, she is not worried that everyone knows what they did the last time they were together; she is far more concerned that there is a strange detachment in Lynette’s caresses.

When they reach Wisteria Lane everyone disperses quickly, as though they don’t know how to be around her right now, she doesn’t blame them given that she has done a relatively accurate impersonation of a crazy person this morning but she is surprised and hurt that Lynette attempts to disperse with the rest of them. She chases after her, “Did I do something wrong?”

Lynette gives her a disdainful look, “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Something’s obviously wrong and we need to talk and I have no problem with creating a scene in the street, once you’ve made a spectacle of yourself there’s not that much to lose.”

“Fine,” she marches over to Bree’s house and waits for Bree to catch up and let them in.

Lynette is pacing the lounge room like a caged animal and Bree has no idea what to say to make things better, “Did I go something wrong? Was it…..when we…..was it bad?” she looks away, not able to face Lynette and braces herself for the answer.

“How long have you known about the note?”

This wasn’t at all the reply she was expecting, “The detective told me about it when I collected Rex’s body.”

“What do you think the note’s about?”

“The police seem to believe that he was convinced that I poisoned him.”

“I don’t care what the police think.”

“So it doesn’t matter to you that I remain a murder suspect?”

“That’s not want I meant, don’t twist my words.”

“I didn’t twist your words. That’s what you said.”

Lynette’s eyes narrow and her words are clipped, “What do you think the note meant?”

“I think it means that I spent 18 years of my life with a man who didn’t know me at all.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

“Are you asking me if I think the note is about us?”

Lynette nods and wraps her arms around her chest, “Do you?”

“I don’t know, it might have been, it might have been about believing that I had poisoned him, it might have been about George for all I know, all I know for sure is that he was willing to forgive me for a crime I never committed.”

“But we did, we’d kissed, you’d told me that you loved me, what if he knew?” Lynette looks pale.

“Then I hate him for forgiving me, I hate him for not being devastated.”

“So you let things go as far as they did because you were mad at him.” It’s not a question, it is a statement delivered with a sense of hopelessness and despair.

“How can you think that?”

“How can I not? You made it clear that it was over and then you get this note and you let me do, well whatever it was in your mind that we did. I went home and washed my hands and my wedding ring was covered in your juices and I felt so guilty and confused that I wanted to vomit and today I watch you throw you wedding ring into a grave like it means nothing, so how can I not think that you let me fuck you as you way of saying ‘Screw you’ to Rex?”

Words fly out of her mouth before she has a chance to think, “If you believe that, you don’t know me either, you are just like Rex.”

“You said you wanted this to be over, you got it, I never want to see you again,” Lynette storms past her and slams the door on her way out.

She slumps to the floor against the door, looking at the spot which gave her joy a few hours ago but is now forever likely to be associated with pain. She doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to convince Lynette that the timing may not have been the best but that it wasn’t about spite, it was about love and it meant everything to her. She tries to tell herself that she has been right all along, that they can’t be together, that her love is a curse and Lynette is better off free of it and that as devastating as this is, it is for the best but she is unable to find any comfort in those thoughts. She has nothing now, not her memories of Rex, not the respect of her children and not Lynette so she will do the only thing that she can do - open a bottle of wine and hope that she finds oblivion at the bottom.


End file.
